Day 43: Chapel
And just like that, the disorienting feeling of blacking out just to wake up in an unfamiliar bed came again. Alkaid had wondered if it would - everything about last night had been different, all the way from the zombies to the eerie emptiness of the Institute to the strange broadcast at the end of the night. Had the Head Doctor been shot? Damn,
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It was this room... That was what was bothering him. Or more, it was that resounding quiet that only belonged to big empty rooms like this. It was hard to think in places like this, where one was naturally compelled to speak softly. He needed some kind of background noise. Even the distant hum of traffic would have been better than this.
He glanced briefly at the man who'd taken a seat a little further down the pew. Then he paused and glanced at him again, a little longer this time. It only struck him now that the face was familiar, and it took a few moments more to realize exactly why. Despite hearing the man was here several times, he still looked surprised for just moment when he finally recognized Wright. It was... really astonishing the difference a change in wardrobe made.
It could have been because he wasn't in much of a mood to put up friendly pretenses or it could have been because he hadn't cared to speak to the man in over seven years... but he couldn't muster up much more than a small smile in the other's direction.
"Wright. Good morning," he said simply in greeting. Yes, he knew there was nothing good about it, but it was nice to go along with familiar ground. He sat himself a little straighter as if offering his full attention. Though that made it seem more like a business meeting than a civil one. "It's been a while. You made it through the evening... relatively unharmed, I trust?"
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"Relatively," he echoed in reply, doing his best to match the expression - enough of a smile to be pleasant, not quite enough to fool anyone into thinking he was happy. It was a very true answer, when there had been people who hadn't survived the night. Some white gauze and lightheadedness weren't much, compared to that. He eased his way into the questions, even though they'd been nagging at the back of his mind for days now. They were easy to push back - they weren't part of the puzzle people's lives depended on solving - and at the same time impossible to get rid of altogether. "You?"
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"It's getting more dangerous every night. I'm somewhat worried as to where this is leading. Even Herr Doktor didn't grace us with his presence this morning." Of course, having been here longer and been through more, Wright was the last person who needed to be told any of that. ...Speaking of which.
His smile spread a little into a bit more of a playful smirk. That's right... He'd only been told several times. "Ah. I suppose I should introduce myself again, ja?" He didn't stop to consider if that knowledge came across as creepy or not. Although considering Edgeworth, perhaps Wright knew already. "...Klavier Gavin."
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They couldn't do things the normal way forever, though. Phoenix couldn't do things the normal way for more than five minutes, anymore, even when he wanted to. There was a melancholy in that thought that kept his eyes on the puddles of multicolored light spilling across the floors for a few more seconds, soaking in the bright simplicity of reds and blues shining off of polished wood and marble. Then he looked back again, a harmless quirk of a smile nestling into one corner of his mouth. "Did Edgeworth give you the third degree about the timespan between you and me, already?"
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More unexpected was the positive mindset. Maybe Klavier had him pegged incorrectly, but he was expecting more of a side quip. Not that anything he'd said was unwelcome. He would take simple gratitude over the alternative.
"Oh yes. We gossiped quite a bit," he said with a brief, amused laugh. "If I recall correctly, your last memory is from 2019, correct?" It wasn't difficult to figure where this was most probably leading, but he would play along. It was what he did best.
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"Right. Early February of that year. The month makes a difference, obviously." The month, nothing. The day made a difference. The hour and the minute made a difference - Godot's appearance had been reminder enough of that, if he could've even imagined he'd forget after having so many verdicts depend on simple timing. It was a funny thing to ponder, in a place where time was so palpably wrong. "What about you? 2025 seems to be the popular year for people from the future."
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Speaking of which, that was an interesting little comment there, wasn't it? If he was referring to just Klavier and his brother, that wouldn't count enough for a 'popular year' to pull people from. ...Did that mean he knew Forehead was here as well? Maybe it should have been expected, what with that big mouth of his. He could only hope that was what it meant, and not that there were even more people here he wasn't aware of.
"That does seem to be the case. A bit unsettling when you stop to think about it, ja?" he agreed, not sounding very unsettled at all. He placed the elbow closest to Wright onto the back of their pew, leaving the rest of his arm to dangle down the front between them. "In other words, you're 'from' about two months before we first met. ...I myself last remember August of 2025. Late August, specifically."
He had to wonder... was there some kind if significance to the time Wright's memory was last placed? After all, Edgeworth had said something about him disappearing and returning with altered memories. What people last remembered must have posed some kind of importance. Somehow.
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Apollo was from the last available date. He'd question him first - if his hunch was right, the younger man was just as tangled up in this as any of the rest of them, and he'd have at least some of the answers. More than that, he had something else. It wasn't the kind of trust in Phoenix that he would've liked from someone who presumably knew him, maybe, but Apollo had thought that he'd been canny enough to track him down out in the wilds of definitely-not-L.A., and more than that, that he'd been willing to. That was all the faith he needed, right now. The rest could sit on basics, until then.
Phoenix released a deep breath after a long silence, aware of the bright humming fallen to a lower frequency inside his skull, the way the rest of the room became dimmer if he tried to focus on the place where illusions should have been. It was the same as ever: he'd use what he had.
"Here's how it is." When he spoke, his voice was frank, eyes regarding the other attorney levelly. "I'm worried about these events that haven't happened yet, but I'm worried about getting out of this place more. Still, I still need to know one thing, Mr. Gavin, because it's like you said - this place is getting less safe by the day, and we all need to know who our allies are." He regarded him seriously, and though his voice didn't rise in volume, it seemed bolder all the same. "Would you or your brother have any reason to harbor some kind of ill will towards me?"
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But the question... caused him to pause. Had it been anything else but 'ill will,' he would have been able to answer without a second's doubt. Klavier wasn't exactly resolved on how to feel about Wright, especially after his brother's case. He could act civil, certainly, even laugh and work with him if need be. But that wouldn't mean he necessarily liked him.
What about Kristoph? How did his brother feel about the friend who went free while he was sent to prison in his stead? No. That's not right. He shouldn't think that way. Kristoph was guilty, wasn't he? He was held accountable for his own actions. Nothing more. In that case, would he harbor any ill feelings toward Wright or Justice? ...Did Klavier himself? That was too complicated to give a yes or no for.
The point of the question was to determine whether or not he and Kristoph were enemies. That was all. There could be bad feelings between friends, enemies, and everything in between. That was how people were, unfortunately. That he could answer easily without technically lying. He knew he would never hurt Wright or anyone else here. And his brother wouldn't either.
...Actually, Klavier had to admit there was a little doubt there. He truly believed from the bottom of his heart that whatever had happened with his brother, it wasn't supposed to happen. His brother was not a killer. He had been pushed by a circumstance he didn't want to share with anyone. It was not something that would repeat again. Ever. But it did prove what Kristoph was capable of if pushed to that one-in-a-million breaking point. However, this time, Klavier was here. And no matter what, he would never allow that happen. While he was here, nothing would touch his brother. ...And vice versa.
Klavier exhaled as though exasperated, even though the smile stayed in place. It painted the illusion that he thought it was a ridiculous question. "I'll have you know, Wright, I don't like speaking for my bro. And I don't like him speaking for me either. Personally speaking, however, I can't say you and I are best friends. Or friends at all, really. ...Truth be told, this is only my second time talking to you." He let out a small chuckle and smiled at him. "But as for 'sides,' I'll take the liberty of speaking for both Kristoph and myself. I don't think you have anything to worry about from either of us. We all want to get out just as much as you and Herr Edgeworth. ...With as few scars as possible, of course."
Maybe this had been a good chance meeting after all. Edgeworth was so vindictive and paranoid, he might have gotten to Wright's opinion of the brothers eventually. This way, maybe Wright could see there was nothing to worry about and could talk some sense into Herr 'Demon Prosecutor' before he started picking fights some more.
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He would've felt even more excited, if he hadn't felt like he'd just been dragged behind a truck, but maybe being a little subdued was a good thing. This was a delicate problem, by the looks of it. Jumping up, shouting triumphantly, and pointing fingers probably would've gotten the same response it gained all of the other loonies: being dragged off by a nurse, sedated, and put in his room. (Now that he thought about it, the arguments of, 'but you don't understand, I can see lies' probably would've fallen under the same jurisdiction.)
As it stood, the relieved little laugh that Phoenix gave was entirely genuine, as was the look of frank thankfulness. He didn't have to tools to break the lock; they were out of his reach in more ways than one. But even that little clue - that he'd found some doubt, or equivocation, or little thought-to-be-harmless lie - was something to go on. "Friend or not, you're being awfully helpful, so thanks." Phoenix looked up at the front of the room, slouching into a slightly more relaxed posture. Propping his elbows over the edge of the bench was more difficult than he'd anticipated, stretching muscles through his back and shoulders that last night had tied into unassailable knots, but it felt nice.
The rueful look on his face came naturally as breathing, along with the quip, acerbic but frank, lacking any kind of bitterness. "Anyway, I wasn't holding my breath and hoping you'd be my new best friend. The 'becomes my eventual ruin' thing would make that kind of awkward."
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Regardless, Klavier let out a very honest laugh at the playful jeer, letting a huge smirk smear across his face. "I suppose that's true. I'll try to keep that in mind before we start signing up for clubs together."
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